


Ex Machina Fragments

by Oakdell, SaintOlga



Series: Ex Machina [4]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Equilibrium (2002), Torchwood
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Children of Earth Fix-It, Coffee, Interrogation, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakdell/pseuds/Oakdell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintOlga/pseuds/SaintOlga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the series are unfinished and will stay this way because it has been ages and we both aren't in the right place for it anymore, we're posting all the bits and pieces that were written for it. This is not a chaptered fic; some chapters contain relatively complete drabbles, and others are more of a random selection of scenes. For details, see notes for each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Libria: Before and After

**Before**

 

He was wearing his familiar black jacket again; he didn’t want to be in any way significant among the others. But still, he was.

‘I don’t know how to wash the blood off, dad.’ He proceeded to the kitchen, dropping himself to the chair, not able to see anything in front of him. ‘The collar’s gone all pink, I must’ve ruined it, I’m sorry!’

He heard how another chair was moved and then felt Lisa’s warm hands around him. Slowly, very slowly he blinked and finally managed to see her face.

‘Mum told to hug you when she’s gone,’ Lisa continued, ‘As strong as I can.’

‘What…’ he felt he was suddenly out of breath, ‘…what else did Mum tell?’

‘She made me promise I cook for you when I grow up.’

‘You don’t even know what cooking is,’ Robbie said clearly passing down the corridor.

‘She told that Dad will show me how to do it!’

He remembered this talk of the past evening and it was the only thing that kept him conscious while he was driving to Equilibrium through the gone-mad city: everything made of glass broken, people wandering or running around, resistance members armed with all kinds of guns pacing in sure steps. For a moment he even thought he saw a body lying on the concrete.

Jurgen was waiting for him inside along with the others, and his presence felt almost as blessing.

‘Your broadcast was successful, people’ve gone calmer. They believe you, John,’ Preston wasn’t looking at him; he didn’t want to look at anybody. ‘But we have a trouble.’

‘Yes, I know, I still walk the streets,’ he didn’t let people who accompanied him to the inner halls insert a word. ‘All members of the emergency council to the office, immediately. The report on the Tetragrammaton members supporting or opposing us – first thing on my desk. Jurgen,’ Preston finally turned to face him, leading him a few steps away from the others, ‘I will also need Professor Witham. Hysteria’s gone too far, we’ll need a sedative. Once it’s ready, let your people and the police walk around the city and instruct citizens to take it. Perhaps… we don’t have time to reason everybody, I think we may need to let it to the water supply.’

Jurgen eyed him heavily for a moment.

‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, our trouble. Professor Witham threw himself out of the window this morning, He couldn’t take it anymore.’

Neither could Preston.

He didn’t even know how exactly after this hell of a day – in fact, two past days were hell, so why this one should be any difference? – he parked by an abandoned house in the third zone of the city; and how he entered that flat on the first floor and how he ended up on the stairs leading to the basement – once to the offenders’ secret place, and now to his.

 

* * *

 

**After**

 

Step by step, he rose on the tribune. The plass in front of his was full of people, mostly offenders; but they didn't sit in rows - they stood in groups, an irregular pattern of faces and figures in front of him. They talked, but when he took his place, the plass fell into silence. He felt strangely calm, similar and very different from what he felt with the guns.

'They feel lost', Ianto's voice said in his head. 'They don't know what to do with what they feel. They need... some meaning. Someone...'

He looked straight in front of him, knowing that the cameras are rolling, taking this gaze and sending it all over the Libria, where the screens, those which survived the riot, now blinked into life. He took a deep breath.

'People of Libria!' he said, and there was a rush of air over the plass, as if everyone suddenly breathed out. People on the plass were looking at him, waiting, tense; emotions boiling inside, ready to take the form he gives them.

Anger. Rage. Hate. Passion. Joy. Triumf.

He knew that people all over the Libria now turn their heads to the screens, like a heliotrop to the sun. They were used to them, some never lived in a world without them, like himself; the screens told them what is their world. Now, they looked at their electronic suns, seeing his face.

'Smile', Jack said in his head, and chuckled softly. 'Oh, this smile can win any heart'.

He smiled, at the memory, and at the people of Libria, with the warmth the memory brought, with the joy of what he have done to let these people, his people feel.

'People of Libria!' he said, still smiling. 'I bring you joy.' 


	2. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The PWP that started it all; although we never finished it through the whole act, it stands on its own okay.

'C'me on', Jack said softly. 'Touch'.

His skin was warm, warmer than Preston's fingers. There was a firm cheekbone underneath, right under his fingertips, but the skin over it was soft and smooth; lower, it grew more coarse. He felt the hollows of the teeth line and the prominence of the jaw-bone, all the lines of scull, hidden from view, and the landscape of muscles between it and the skin. Then the muscles moved, very slowly, as Jack grinned, and the dimple appeared right under Preston's palm. Is felt as a tectonic activity in the complex landscape of his face, everything changing and yet, still the same. His brilliant one-sided grin, his teeth perfectly white, only one of them crooked; his lips, full and looking very fine, skin delicate and pliant; his eyes, shining and inquiring and challenging. Preston looked into them, and then back at those lips, and carefully moved his hand to them, following the curve of the lower one with his fingertips.

Jack’s eylids fluttered and half-closed, he signed, but never moved away. Preston tugged slightly at his lip, and felt smooth wet inner surface, drying up fast. Jack smiled wider, and pink tongue slid from behind his teeth, licked at Preston’s finger.

‘What do you feel?’ Jack asked, every word touching Preston, in soft puffs of air, in movements of lips under his fingers, in sudden trembling deep inside him.

‘I… feel’, Preston stated. He did. It filled him from the inside: tugging warmth in his chest, heavy heat in his belly, electric tingle under his skin, growing strain in his groin, obscure yearning in his hands.

‘What do you feel?’ Jack insisted, and Preston searched for words he never used, he never even knew.

Tension. Unlike the pre-kata meditation - uncontrolled. And it was moving.

It shouldn't be like this. Life outside self-control never made him any good.

One Jack's hand covered his, heavy, wider and bigger, the other touched his chest, above the solar plexus.

'John', Jack called him, bringing back from the thoughts racing in his mind, and the name sounded like a moan. He moved Preston's hand over his face, over a chin with a dimple, along the jaw and down to neck, to the sharp adam's apple and vulnerable hollow between his clavicles, in the triangle of open collar.

He tried, he honestly tried but couldn't arrange it in proper words and the only one to come out was

'...Uncontrolled.'

That makes no sense, was his next thought.

Jack chuckled deep in his throat, and Preston felt it, too, every small vibration raising along the vocal cords, and his body echoed it with slight trembling. Then Jack's hands encircled him, drew him closer, into the warm of the man's body, into the smell of him, musky and sweet and impossible. Preston’s hand instinctively contracted on his throat, fingers turning into claws for a second. Jack tensed and gently pried his hand away.

‘Not for today, I think’, he smirked.

Now that definitely made no sense.

But he wasn't going to care anymore. Not now. Not with Jack's hands round him and his scent which he deeply inhaled, and with a-bit-too-late understanding that it was body contact what made the tension loosen a little. And it was...

...the loss of words again.

‘It’s okay’, Jack said, as his palms run down Preston’s back in a soothing manner. ‘John, relax. Listen to yourself.’ He was even closer now, hands crossing over Preston’s back, and then moving up, to his shoulders, to his face, embracing it like a cup. Preston gripped Jack’s biceps, to push away or to pull closer. Jack laughed. ‘Stop me. Ask me questions. Whatever.’ His whisper tickled Preston’s cheek.

Then Jack leaned forward and touched Preston’s mouth with his.

The pieces of his shattered mind were suddenly arranged in something, between a knowledge and a feeling, complex, logical and complete. It was like the pure existence his world aimed for. Only not based on sense - based on feeling.

He was going the entirely wrong way all along.

And what he felt now - he wasn't about to let it go.

And he didn't stop.

There were lips on his, dry on the outside, wet on the delicate underside; they moved along his, pressing lightly. Then teeth, probing on his lower lip, tugging like he tugged earlier with his fingers, their firmness a sharp contrast to soft flesh in his oversensitive state. He let Jack show him what to do, and then repeated: lips pressure along the contour of the mouth, teeth catching flesh - and got a moan from Jack, which sounded like an encouragement and also like a signal for something he once again didn’t get. Then Jack licked at his mouth, between his lips, and he mirrored it, and in a second, their mouths were locked on each other, breath mixed, lips and tongues moving in some instinctive rhythm.

He didn’t know where the feelings came from - it’s not like the mouth was such an erogenous zone. They taught them about male erogenous zones at school, because sometimes, a man couldn’t get an erection from penis stimulation alone, and he had to, because after all the wars, Libria needed new citizens, so not one night of possible reproduction should go in waste. But mouth wasn’t on the list; and yet, Jack touched Preston’s mouth with his own, and it made him tingle with Feeling, all over.

And then the recent memories came. 'Everything done for mutual pleasure is right.' He got it now. It was right.

And he tried, letting go of Jack's arms and tracing his hands up and down, feeling the shirt under his fingertips and then, lower, where the sleeves ended - Jack's bare skin.

Jack laughed in his mouth, a huff of sweet air, and slowly drew back. His pupils were dilated, his scent changed, with new musky notes now.

‘Oh, you are Good’, he said, breathless.

He let Preston touch his hands for a while, and then took them away, to tear away his shirt and undershirt in a few brisk movements. Spreading his shoulders, he looked Preston straight in the eye, and ordered with an easy smile:

‘Touch me’.

He could do nothing but obey this easiness and this smile: started with placing careful palms on Jack's shoulders and letting them go slowly down, fingers spread, across his chest to his firm belly, holding his waist for a moment and then going up the back, drawing closer, pressing against Jack's body, his nose touching slightly somewhere near the curve of Jack's neck, brushing along. Preston was aware of muscles moving slightly under the skin, and sinew, and bones. He could even recount them, one by one, as his hands moved: external abdominal oblique, thorocolumbar fascia, latissimus dorsi, teres major, trapezius… On trapezius, his hands stopped.

He realized he held his breath for a few seconds and exhaled, his breath warm against Jack's neck. Jack turned his head slightly, cheek to cheek with him, all muscles relaxed under his hands. Then he wrapped his arms Preston’s waist, moving him closer.

‘You’re doing great’, he said softly. ‘Now…’

His lips touched Preston’s ear.

‘Just remember’, Jack said, ‘every part of human’s body is made to feel. Whatever you do, make it feel. Like this,’ he nipped at the earlobe, and then bit it, sharp, and then licked, and nipped again, in a different way, pressing harder and longer, and then sucked, and blowed at it cool air, all in fast succession. That was almost painful, the feeling made him forget he was about to repeat all this, he could hardly recall the word 'mutual' and just stood there, squeezing Jack's back and probably leaving marks with his fingernails as if he was about to fall. Every part of human body...

'Every part..?'

Jack laughed and pushed him away, looking at him with a wide grin.

‘Every. Part’, he said. ‘So. What would you prefer to do first - to feel or to feel me up?’

He winked, and his tone was the kind that made Ianto all eye-rolling, but there was kindness in his eyes.

He haven't heard that expression before, but Jack's face, all mischievous and still a lot like happy, left no room for misinterpretation.

'How do I do that?' he asked. He couldn't believe but the whole situation, his own excitement and Jack's wicked smile were close to actually amuse him.

Jack sighed.

'Don't be that serious about that, you're not on duty. Well, at least not yet, whatever Ianto may say,' they both let out a slight chuckle and Preston felt that it was very much like the whole world turned under his hand the right way.

'Don't want to do wrong,' he paused. 'Because I like you, Jack.'

Jack was serious for a moment.

‘Like you, too’, he responded. Then, as if it was too serious for him, he grinned again. 'You simply can't go wrong at it. If any body part is made to feel, every single one can feel good. Get that? Go ahead then!' He spread his arms and threw his head back, and kind of fell back on the bed.

It was unexpected, and Preston almost fell with him, ending up with one knee at the bed and propping himself on one hand. Jack was under him, his chest wide, a distinct relief of muscles playing in the twilight of the room. This landscape of planes and hollows and rounded lines was like a picture from a hidden room: light making the skin look golden and pink, and the shadows, turning it bluish and dark, and brownish shades in between, all kinds of colours, really, as if entire body was sculpted of light and darkness and humanity. The shades moved with every breath Jack made, deep breaths spreading his chest, drawing his ribs apart, and then moving them close again.

That was beauty and this beauty was overwhelming. And trying his best to express this extremely complicated thought to Jack, he leaned down and kissed him again, all by himself this time, passionately making Jack's lips open wider and then breaking off, kissing his cheekbones and closed eyes, eyelids thin and gentle and Jack's hands on his back and - lower - strong and demanding as if trying to remind him of something essential.

That was indeed very stupid of him and he smiled, widely, madly, just like Jack did.

For some reason undressing Jack was not even nearly as uncomfortable as he felt taking only his T-shirt off...

Jack opened his eyes for this, and his gaze felt hot on Preston’s skin, as if he was touching him. Preston threw his t-shirt away and shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of feelings running through him, intoxicating. Jack’s hands stayed low on his back, large palms and spread fingers. Jack was watching… and waiting.

Preston put one hand on his chest, over his heart, beating faster than normal. He was mentally cataloguing the body in front of him: pectorals, strong and wide. Clavicles, delicate even in a man. A strong neck, and he knew where exactly the pulse wa beating without touching it. A dip of sternum, a plane of the belly, a hollow of the navel. Skin, a lot of skin, slightly different in texture from one place to another.

Jack was looking at him, thoughtful and patient, but his gaze was still heavy, and with every second, the heat in it grew. Preston guessed that Jack is making his own inventory.

Jack moved, and a nipple brushed John’s palm. Nipples were rudimentary in male body, useless. He looked at them: dark, perky and wrinkled.

Made to feel.

He brushed his hand over one, deliberately this time, and Jack made a long shuddering breath: ‘Yes-s…’

He repeated, now with both hands - with reaction positive, judging from Jack's closed eyes and heavy breath, and leaned down to lick one. That was the thing he learned recently  - anything done with tongue felt a thousand times more mind-blowing than done with fingers - and he just wanted to check.

 

* * *

 

‘Tell you what,’ Jack sighed, leaning over him, propping himself on both hands one at each side of Preston’s head, ‘I show and you just follow.’ He leaned even closer to give him a kiss and Preston quickly brushed his fingers through Jack’s hair, touching them properly for the first time, not about to let him pull away – Jack’s kisses were never enough, even after everything he’s done already, after his every brush and every touch. And it made him shiver, almost shake when he guessed about what was yet to come.

‘And you know,’ Jack continued, finally stopping but with his lips still touching John’s, ‘just in case… you’ll feel like it… go on and scream.’


	3. Happy Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto deals with Jack and John... dabbling.

The restaurant was busting with executives discussing stocks over their overpriced dinner and couples exchanging heated glances over good wine. Ianto could fit with either crowd; Jack, with neither. As usual. In the glass of the big window, Ianto caught a couple of odd glances thrown their way. He was used to it, but now, he felt as their oddness was not in Jack’s style or manners, that those people around knew what they were, knew what happened tonight between Jack and Preston, and how Ianto allowed it, and judged them all for it. The feeling wasn’t new, though he’d forgotten it since the first days of their… dabbling, when it was mixed with painful guilt over Lisa. Now, it was back, and to think that he wasn’t even the one who… dabbled this time.

‘Penny for it.’

Ianto blinked and returned his distracted gaze from the reflection in the mirror to the real-life Jack. Then took a bite of his steak.

‘I was just thinking if this new development makes our work dynamics odder than they are already, and if so, than to what degree.’

‘You mean, does the fact that all of us are happy shag buddies fucks us up at job? It certainly does, but with a job like ours, it hardly matters.’

Ianto winced at Jack’s crude description.

‘Hopefully not all of us. Leave Gwen out of it.’

‘Blasphemy! I only think about her as a sister.’ Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘A very shaggable sister.’

Ianto stared at him with morbid fascination.

‘What? Didn’t you think about it? Those tits…’

‘…have just became a forbidden topic at this table.’

‘You are such a prude.’

‘Indulge me.’

They ate in silence for a minute. Than Jack cracked a grin.

‘With Gwen out of this equation, there is one question left…’

‘No.’

‘I didn’t ask yet!’

‘No, I’m not going to shag John, with or without your participation.’

‘Why? You seemed pretty eager to shag that couple of kids we brought in.’

‘They were one night stands. John is… different. He is not ready for this, anyway. You are enough to entertain him for quite a while.’

‘You make it sound like it has nothing to do with you again.’

‘He has to go to his home one day.’

‘We don’t know when.’

‘Exactly.’

Heavy silence.

‘Well, if you want to hear it, then I don’t think that I need another hopeless relationship in my life.’

‘Hopeless?’

‘You know what I mean, Jack.’

Jack threw a napkin on his plate and glared. Ianto shrugged and carefully finished his meal. The tension was growing into a quarrel. He wasn’t in the mood for one. He also hated the idea of explaining anything here, in the open, devoid of cover of darkness and blankets and aftersex sleepiness when words seem unreal.

‘I don’t like to waste my time on things that are probably workable but take too much effort. I have my hands full.’ He smirked and raised an eyebrow in clear suggestion. ‘Or will have, as soon as we pay the check and go somewhere quieter.’

‘Are you bribing me with sex to end the unpleasant talk?’

‘I’m bribing you with sex to move the unpleasant talk to more pleasant and fitting surroundings.’

‘Deal.’

On their way out, Jack’s hand sneaked down Ianto’s back and lingered just on top of the swell of his butt. He let it be, for once. But he had to put a stop on Jack trying to kiss him in the doorway.

‘C’me on, there’s a couple of shocked citizens checking us out! Let’s give them a show.’

‘No, Jack.’

‘You’re no fun.’

'Jack. Personal life is what it says on the lid: personal.’

‘Then why you people are trying to make it public business all the time? All the buzz about who is allowed to shag whom and how.’

‘Because we love our quaint little categories.’


	4. Children of Earth Fix-It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the final part of the series, the reason The Machine brought Preston over. A lot of dialogue and scenes is from the Children of Earth; there are also parts of the script that were supposed to be re-written but I'm leaving them as-is.

Preston was keeping an eye on the monitors while Jack and Ianto went out to check that small alert from an hour ago, and running small everyday chores in the Hub. Ianto insisted he shouldn’t do it, but as a lower-ranked officer, he felt it was his duty, not that it was hard. He was watering the plants in the hothouse, following the very precise instructions Ianto drew up, when the cog door wheeled aside, letting Gwen in.

‘Anyone in?’ she yelled enthusiastically. ‘You having shenanigans in the dark? Jack?’

‘He’s out with Ianto’, Preston answered from above. ‘Morning’.

‘Morning John!’ She beelined to her desk, touching the picture on the sidebar with a soft greeting. ‘Any Rift activity?’

‘Some, an hour and… seven minutes ago, Jack and Ianto on it’, he reported.

‘T’s not it…’ she murmured typing something. Preston came closer, looking at her screen.

‘What’s going on?’ he inquired.

‘I saw two children in the street’, she replied, looking through the search results. ‘They kind of… stopped. Just stopped’.

‘Weird’, he said.

‘Duh. Id it’s weird, it’s Torchwood’.

Preston sat at his desk and joined the searching process.

 

* * *

 

 ‘You are gonna get us killed!’ Ianto laughed entering through the cog door.

‘No, you get killed, not me. You'd die like a dog, like an ugly dog!’ Jack replied with a pointed gesture. Gwen didn’t even look at them.

‘Oi, Chuckle Brothers. I found something’.

Jack wasn’t listening, full of energy and determined.

‘Yeah, well, I want a check on St Helen's Hospital specifically the morgue’.

‘Well, there's a computer, do it yourself’, Gwen retorted, drawing another chuckle from Ianto.

Preston tried to imagine suggesting to DuPont to do something himself. In both senses.

He _loved_ Torchwood’s chain of command.

‘Meanwhile,’ Gwen continued, ‘I've been getting reports this morning of 17 road traffic accidents, happening right across the country, all the way from Glasgow to St Ives’.

Jack was taking off his coat, Ianto took it from him, meeting his eyes for a moment.  

‘Is that above average?’ Jack inquired going to the closest computer.

‘Well, they all occurred between 8.40 and 8.41. 17 road traffic accidents happening in exactly the same minute? And every single one of them involving children’.

‘That'll be the school run’, Ianto added from yet another screen. Gwen looked thoughtful

‘All of them were just standing in the road. Not crossing the road, just standing. I saw it myself, Jack. Two kids on Market Street. Well, they just stopped’.

‘Same reports from France’, Ianto said. ‘15 road traffic accidents. All timed around 9.40. They're an hour ahead, so it was simultaneous’.

‘All involving children?’

‘Yup. Hold on. Still cross-referencing. Here we go. Reports coming in, RTAs in Norway. Sweden. Denmark. Luxembourg.

Preston was doing the same.

‘Spain, Portugal, Bosnia, Tokyo, Singapore, how many countries do you have here? At 8.40 GMT, most of America was asleep, but even there, first reports are coming’. He looked at Jack. ‘I think we can assume it's all of them, sir. As far as we can tell, at 8.40 this morning, every single child in the world stopped,’ at least, not every single man, he thought, that would be another ridiculous assoscation he didn’t need.

‘Seen anything like this before, Jack?’ Gwen asked with a slight hint of childish hope in her voice, a hope to get her answer straight away. Jack dissolved her hope.

‘No way. Kids?’

‘Oh hell’, she sighed. ‘Bloody Torchwood’.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation of solving a mystery.

‘Now’, Jack clapped his hands. ‘Gwen, Preston, find everything else you can. Ianto, tell them about the bodies going missing from the hospital, and you’re on it’. He stormed of to his office.

‘What bodies?’ Gwen asked. Preston just tensed in his chair, looking at Ianto. Ianto started talking in his best storytelling voice, hands flying over the keyboard.

‘There was this guy in the hospital…’

 

* * *

  

They were checking and re-checking and cross-referencing, and came out with big fat nothing. Jack was on the phone with UNIT and Torchwood Two and God knows who else, but judging from his growing frustration and voice going louder, his research also came back empty. So Preston was sure it were the results that made Ianto grin and run to Jack’s office.

‘You were right! He's back!’

Or maybe the Doctor returned to Cardiff?

‘Ha! Ha! I said so!’ exclaimed Jack running to the monitor. They all followed him, intrigued.

‘Who's back?’ Gwen asked looking over Jack and Ianto’s shoulders.

There was a man on the Plass, tall and skinny. He didn’t look like the Doctor, though.

‘What's he doing?’ Jack asked.

‘Waiting. Just like you said. He's been there 20 minutes’.

‘Persistent’.

‘Good sign’.

‘Dogmatic’.

‘Always a plus’.

‘Oh, Christ, never work with a couple - you two talk like twins! Now tell me who he is’.

'Rupesh Patanjali. He saw the hitchhiker, he's the bodies-going-missing man’.

‘Dr Patanjali’, Jack added pointedly. He almost looked like he was offering an excuse. ‘We need a doctor’.

‘What… you let just him follow you?’

‘Ask about Torchwood, and most people point towards the Bay,’ Ianto explained with that shade of smugness that appeared every time he demonstrated he knew everything.

‘Oh’. It downed on Gwen slowly, and as it did, Jack and Ianto both grinned, with good humor and kind of nostalgic. ‘You bastards, that's exactly what you did to me the first time we met! Well, sod that, I'm promoting myself to recruitment officer!’

Preston _loved_ the ways of getting a promotion in this institution, too.

 

* * *

  

Preston looked warily through the crack in a muddy glass. He couldn’t see anybody outside but he noticed at least three places where from two up to five people could hide.

‘Once we’re able to move out,’ he said finishing examining the outside territory and looking at his companions, ‘I’m taking you to the only place safe – the Torchwood Hub.’

He saw the woman’s eyes closing in tiredness and lips moving with a slight exhale, articulating the unpronounced Oh my God.

‘You think it’s safe, then?’ she demanded aloud.

‘First, I don’t have any other suggestions, second, I’m not letting you out of my sight, because you know what it may lead to better than me.’

‘Oh you surely make it safer, one man against a full-armed group of professionals.’

Preston felt how sudden wave of anger rose inside him. He Hated to be doubted about his fighting skills. Other qualities – maybe, leadership abilities – yes obviously, ability to adapt in this world (and choose clothes) – sure, but Not his fighting skills, no way.

‘Aren’t you and your son here now?’ he snapped and regretted it instantly.

The woman, however, took no offence and got a few steps closer.

‘I was unjust,’ she said. ‘What is your name again?’

‘John Preston.’

‘Alice,’ she answered and offered a hand which Preston shook gladly.

 

* * *

  

Alice was sitting on a yellowish sofa, Preston beside her on an armrest to have a better view out of the window. Steven slept, his head on his mother’s knees while she was softly brushing her fingers through his hair.

‘How come a man like you ended up working for Captain Harkness?’

‘Say, it wasn’t much of my choice.’

Alice chuckled.

‘He never asks whether anybody wants him around, does he?’

Preston was confused for a moment, wondering if they were talking of the same Captain Jack Harkness.

‘If fact, he cares a lot. God knows where I would be now if it wasn’t for him.’

‘Lucky you, then,’ Alice remarked with a hint of bitterness in her voice. ‘Wish he could do the same for his own family.’

‘I think you again are being unjust.’

‘Maybe. It’s just… that kind of life that if I could choose I’d prefer never to be born.’

‘I didn’t get the impression he treats you badly.’

‘It’s not about what he does; it’s about who he is,’ Alice sighed deeply and Preston felt like it was about time to squeeze her shoulder in a friendly way, which he did. ‘A walking danger, my dad.’

‘He knows that. And misses you a lot,’ he paused and then said, ‘Oh your son is clever.’

‘Yes,’ she smiled softly with a mother’s smile but it faded away after less than a second, when Alice lifted her eyes to look at Preston, ‘why are you saying this?’

He didn’t answer, only moved his glance lower on Steven’s face who still looked deeply asleep but after a few moments finally failed to hold Preston’s gaze any longer and lifted his head a bit.

‘Mom, why did you call Uncle Jack ‘dad’?’

 

* * *

  

JACK: We don't have to analyse the wavelength, just copy it. Turn it into a constructive wave. 

Jack is going from one laptop to another. His work has become fast-paced and frantic now. Suddenly, he stops. 

JACK: But we've got no way of transmitting. 

DEKKER: Of course you have. 

JACK: Shut up. 

DEKKER: Same way as them.

 JACK: I'll find something else. 

JOHNSON: What does he mean? 

JACK: Don't listen to him. 

JOHNSON: Dekker, tell me. 

DEKKER: The 456 used children. To establish the resonance. 

JOHNSON: Meaning what? 

DEKKER: We need a child. Centre of the resonance. Hoo! That child's gonna fry. 

He chuckles. Jack is quiet, his eyes dark as he seeks solutions. This moment, Preston knows what to do. It is as clear as gun kata. They are in Jack's office. Alice is in the hothouse with Stephen. Preston catches Johnson's eyes over the blinking of screens; in her gaze, there's calm emptyness of a colleague. A Cleric.

She briskly goes out and disappears in the hothouse. Preston moves aside, to Jack's computer. As soon as Johnson appears back again, this time, with a child in her hands, he types the code combination. Alice, hot on her steps, runs into an invisible wall. 

ALICE: No, Dad. No, tell them no. 

JOHNSON: One child or millions. 

ALICE: Dad, no. Dad, tell them no! 

JOHNSON: We're running out of time. 

ALICE: Dad, no! No, Dad! 

Dekker cackles. Jack sends Preston an incredulous look. Preston stands straight. 

Johnson is in the middle of the circle. Stehen doesn't scream. He looks confused, lost. Not frightened. 

This moment, he looks so much like Robbie.

The countdown blinks. Alice is screaming over the invisible wall of the force field. The cog door rolles aside, and Ianto and Rupesh run inside, Ianto wielding a gun. They are also stopped by the lockdown. 

PRESTON: Stephen. I have a question for you. You know this thing, with children stopping in the streets? 

STEPHEN: Yeah? 

PRESTON: There are aliens. They are going to take the children. A lot of them. And... basically, kill them. Unless we stop them. But to stop them, we need a child. 

ALICE: No, DAD! 

Ianto stares over Preston's shoulder, at Jack. 

PRESTON: We only have you. And you will die. Probably in a lot of pain. 

STEPHEN BLINKS. 

ALICE: He's a child! He can't choose! 

PRESTON: Do you agree, Stephen? 

STEPHEN: Me, or all that other children? 

Preston nods firmly. He hears Jack's breath. In a corner of his eye, he sees Jack's hand hovering over a button. The last one.

The countdown blips. Ianto steps closer to the force field, pressing one open palm to it. Preston doesn't dare to follow his gaze, but he's sure it's locked with Jack's. 

STEPHEN: Okay. 

ALICE: Nooo! 

Preston turns. Jack stands before the laptop, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. Preston doesn't think. He shoots, straight into his head, between the tightly knotted brows. And before the body falls on the floow, he stabs a single key. 

A humming, buzzing sound begins to emerge from the equipment. Behind Dekker, screens show sound waveforms moving on a graph. Steven suddenly goes still. Dekker types another command on the laptop, presumably copying the wavelength. Then he stands back. Steven begins to make the shrill sound first given out by the children in Day One, the sound of attunement. On the other side of the reinforced glass, Alice can only watch in terror.

 

* * *

  

The force field shimmers and switches off. Alice almost falls down, but makes it into a first step of a franic run to her son, lying motionlessly in the middle of the power circle. Dried blood crusts his ears as well as his nose. Alice sits and pulls him into her lap, smoothing his hair, sobbing.

ALICE: No, no, no, no, no! 

She turns her grieving face on Preston as she gathers Steven's body to her. 

ALICE: No! No! Somebody help him! Help him! 

Rupesh runs to her side. Ianto - to the office. Behind Preston, Jack gasps back to life. Preston stands passively, and something tickles his cheeks. Only feeling the salt on his lips, he understands that it's tears. 

ALICE: No, please, no. Why? Why? Oh, please. 

Ianto helps Jack to get up. His movements are heavy, as if he doesn't want to live, not now. His eyes are empty. But the look Ianto sends to Preston is... grateful. 

Over Alice's heartbreaking sobs, Rupesh says incredulously, 'I can hear a pulse'.

There's a moment of total stillness, and then everyone goes into action.


	5. Random Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just some scenes that were supposed to fit together somehow, or to be used in some planned parts of the series.

This morning everything seemed right; in perfect order and just in place.

When Preston came out of Jack’s office, pulling his T-shirt on, he could tell Ianto was here even before the smell of coffee reached his nose.

‘Morning,’ Ianto said, offering him the cup, his eyes smiling.

‘Oh, just what I need!’ he swallowed almost one third at once, and the drink was just perfect. ‘Er, sorry. Morning, too.’

He paused for another sip and added, he didn’t know why:

‘Don’t ask me anything.’

‘Wasn’t going to.’

And they both shared an understanding and satisfied smile.

‘This is really unfair, y’know!’ came Jack’s distant voice. ‘Don’t you think I deserve a cup too?’

‘Jack, for how many times,’ Ianto weren’t shouting, but his voice was strong and loud. ‘Not In Bed!’

‘God, you’re pain in the ass,’ Jack came out too, not bothering to take anything except for the pants on, nodding ‘hi’ to both of them. ‘In every meaning.’

Ianto chose to ignore this remark. Preston too. He remembered it, though.

‘Now you can have one.’

Jack took a sip, never looking away from Ianto, then said:

‘Was it a ‘good morning’?’ and reached to kiss him.

It was Preston’s first time to watch them – casually, not by chance, not in secret. A proper couple – caring, even loving. And it was probably the best thing he’d seen here yet.

‘Mind you, you’re not buying me that cheaply,’ Ianto said, pretending to speak in a severe voice.

‘Oh, it was only an advance,’ and Jack dropped himself onto the sofa, beside Preston, and pulled Ianto with him, making him sit on the other side.

And they sat there, drank their coffee, and laughed. It was a perfect morning, when everything went just fine.

And Preston thought he wouldn’t have been surprised if at some moment Jack would’ve put his cup on the floor, spread his arms and hugged them both.

Then the alert beeped tentatively, Ianto got up to check it, and it all went as usual.

 

* * *

 

 There were jokes among the team about ‘Ends of the World Schedule’; that usually applied to the cases which were technically called ‘oh damn one more day/minute and there would be no more Cardiff city!’ The source of trouble was usually quickly isolated or ‘disassembled according to the general safety rules’ (shot on sight) and everything went fine until the next point on the schedule.

This case, however, was different.

In the morning Jack greeted the team with the cheerful ‘There is a report from a certain police office about a massive computer breakdown. Any IT specialists who tried to deal with it, failed, so try and guess whom they decided to blame?’, which meant going off to the location to get some technical training.

‘Hey, finally got yourself promoted?’ a pleasant-looking dark-skinned woman approached them when they parked by the police office and shook hands with Ianto. ‘I remember you always behind your Captain Jack’s back, and now it is you who train good-looking newbies?’

‘Did you just call me good-looking?’ Ianto asked with nothing but a shade of a smile.

‘Oh, no!’ the woman sighed. ‘Is flirting with anything alive is a required part of being a boss at your place?’

‘Not necessarily alive, I’m afraid. Anyway, pleased to see you, Detective Swanson.‘

Kathy Swanson escorted them into the police office, right to her workplace, explaining the situation on their way.

‘Nothing changed since morning. Still this weird screensaver on and not a single computer reacts to any command. We cannot even check if there is any data left on servers. No sign of major system breakdown yet, everything seems to be running on automatically. But the work in all offices round the city is paralyzed.’

‘More staff to patrol the streets, then,’ Ianto remarked and earned a glare from the Detective. ‘We can only run a quick check from here and try to estimate the source. Any information where did it start from?’

‘As far as I’m aware, here,’ and Kathy handed him her smartphone.

‘You said it were the computers?’

‘Yes, and that’s the thing.’

‘Any other mobiles affected?’

‘No complaints at all, I asked.’

‘Not good,’ Ianto said. They used to say that phrase so often at Torchwood it had lost its original meaning and rather gathered _let’s get down to work_ shade – but not this time. ‘You understand why?’ he asked Preston.

‘You told me on the way Detective Swanson was our contact in the police. Guess that phone is upgraded with Torchwood software to serve as a means of an emergency contact – now, as I can judge, completely useless.’

‘And that’s why it’s so bad.’

‘Oh great,’ the Detective sighed, ‘Everyone who becomes connected with you lot is the first to get beaten. Ideas? Plans?’

‘We have the car, will start working here. John – report to the Captain.’

And there, with the name of the Captain, everything yet again went to hell.

When Jack got the report from Preston, he said nothing but ‘Wait there, I’m coming.’ The first to arrive, however, was Gwen being much exited about the fact the streetlights were green all along her way. Jack came only to discover that the SUV computers also went out of order.

‘Oh, that makes a full set,’ he commented. ‘I had to take a bus – a bas, can you imagine? – and of course it had to stop on every single streetlight. But that’s not it because guess what message I got on the way?’ he lifted his hand to show some lights blinking randomly on his wrist strap, ‘Full Hub lockdown.’

‘Oh, here we go again,’ Kathy rolled her eyes.

‘Now it’s different, because we’re outside! Tell me if you’ve got anything.’

They did. Ianto and Preston managed to find out that the ‘creepy alien virus’ was probably working like autodial, calling to every single computer, searching for certain information – failing to find it – and moving along.

‘Judging from the reports we’re getting, it is every or almost every single computer in town, Captain.’

Jack frowned and checked his wrist strap again, ‘It’s working.’

‘Of course it is, it’s alien!’ Gwen waived her arms.

‘Gwen’s right, perhaps this technology is way beyond what this virus can affect, we’re not aware,’ Ianto added mildly, but Preston heard more than what was said aloud.

Jack looked first at Ianto and Preston, then at Kathy and Gwen.

‘You know what I’m thinking?’ he said. ‘Our company needs another woman.’

‘Jack!’ Gwen cried.

‘I’m serious, otherwise you and Detective Swanson are a minority! And I’m going to call one.’

Obviously, Jack had a Good Idea. Although they haven’t even started to deal with the trouble, Preston could’ve sighed with relief. He didn’t know where this sensation was coming, but now he was sure that everything will be okay.

‘Okay, Ianto, Gwen, I need you to run the LOW check to see how can we…’

‘…Control the city with the population of 324,800 people without any means of communication?’ Ianto helped.

‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant. John, Kathy, I need a hand. Do you by any chance have an unaffected computer here? And a webcam, I need a webcam.’

‘My laptop,’ Kathy said, ‘Didn’t risk switching it on when it all started, maybe it’s still working.’

‘I’ll make it work, partially. But that’ll be enough, I just need a screen. And a camera. Yes, and a keyboard…’

‘Yes, we got the idea. And Captain?’ Kathy asked the question first, but Preston would also like to know the answer. ‘What’s the LOW check?’

Jack grinned.

‘_Look _Out of the _Window.’

At this very moment, Gwen and Ianto did.

Street were filled with people constantly coming out of their houses, going in circles and random lines, lifting their mobiles to the sky in hope to get a signal, and with cars stopped in no logical pattern, unable to move, signaling at each other while traffic lights blinked randomly. Lots of drivers left their cars, some of them screamed at each other, some tried to phone. Somebody recognized the Torchwood SUV and threw whatever he had in his hands at it – missed – and was immediately pulled away by the police. It wasn’t very wise to throw things at the vehicle standing at the police parking lot but, encountering the word ‘Torchwood’, most people didn’t behave wisely at all.

 

* * *

  

‘You need to send people out there.’

‘In a moment. I want to introduce Detective Swanson to the only person in the whole country who’s got a working computer – and probably our only hope to save the world this week. John, Kathy – please meet Sarah Jane Smith.’

‘Captain Harkness!’ the face of he woman who appeared on the screen was serious but the was a laugh audible in her voice, ‘Never to call or to drop a line unless it’s an emergency!’

‘Actually, I was planning to ask you out for the next weekend, but there’s something with the phone network here, I hardly got through! You do happen to know what it is, don’t you?’

The magnificent woman, Sarah Jane, whom Preston couldn’t take his eyes off, turned out to know way more than they did or could’ve guessed. Most of her words were totally meaningless to everyone present except for Jack but that was enough.

‘In simple words, it looks for some technology, but it’s neither Mr Smith nor your wrist strap,’ she concluded. ‘Do you know anybody else who possesses alien devices?’

‘Should I name the whole list or just Top Ten?’

‘A lot of such things are scattered across the Earth, from random Rift garbage to collections of UNIT,’ Ianto said.

‘Private collections also and we hardly know a thing about Torchwood Two,’ Gwen continued.

‘Our own mainframe too, you said it’s not of… local origin.’

‘You said ‘our’, well done,’ Jack replied, ‘But that’s out of the question because Hub’s at lockdown, that won’t let anything affect the mainframe.’

‘Exactly,’ Sarah Jane nodded from the laptop screen.

Preston watched how Jack bent very low, almost touching the screen, ‘That’s not possible, that’s just not,’ he paused and straightened quickly, smiling ‘But you so have the point!’

 

* * *

 

 

It was more than an hour since the tracker blipped off.

'We have to do something', Gwen stated the obvious pacing across the coffee area.

'Let's talk to our guest. Again'.

'Preston will play the bad cop, and if it doesn't work then...'

'No', Ianto said. 'I'll play the bad cop. Preston, you come down when I give a signal.' There was something frightening lurking in his eyes.

Gwen visibly wanted to argue, but he already headed for the interrogation room.

From above, they could see how Ianto entered the room, a perfect stance, spine straight and shoulders wide. He stood over the prisoner. They couldn't see his face, but his voice was quite pleasant.

'I think you had enough time to think. Now, can you please tell me where your people took our friend?'

The prisoner put arrogant airs, and smirked.

'A butler? Is that all you people can do - send a butler to ask questions? Milk and two sugars, that's all you get from me, teaboy - and hurry up!'

Ianto sighed.

'I'm a coffeeboy, and I'm not running errands for you'.

He circled a table and the prisoner, slowly and deliberately. The prisoner was still smirking, but his eyes betrayed his insecurity. Then Ianto was behind him, and put his hands on his shoulders, right above the collar, and pressed, his long fingers digging into skin.

The prisoner screamed. It was long and quite horrible.

Ianto let him go and circled him again, signalling to Preston on his way. When Preston came down to the room, in a black jacket, hair slicked back from his forehead, Ianto once again stood in front of a prisoner. He touched the table with his fingertips, and the prisoner's gaze was glued to them.

'Now, I'm just a butler, like you said, so you don't have much incentive to talk to me', Ianto remarked in a soft polite voice. 'I understand that. I'm leaving you to our investigation specialist now.' With a ceremonial gesture, he moved aside, giving the scene to Preston.

 

* * *

 

 

'Were you the good cop?' Gwen asked with a nervous laugh.

'No. I wasn't in the mood for good cop-bap cop game. So I went for bad cop and a worse cop.'

 

* * *

 

'Oh, that was _good_ ', Jack said watching the CCTV record of the interrogation. 'You were good, too', he said to Preston, but his attention was on Ianto. 'My lessons went well, then?' he smirked.

'Pretty much so, sir', Ianto answered nonchalantly, but those dark shadows from the interrogation were once again in his eyes, transwfroming into some other darkness, hot and deep. The same shadows reflected in Jack's gaze, and between them, it was scorching.

'I'll go home', Preston said and backed away from the office.

 

* * *

 

…Hits followed one after another, quick and sharp like shots – one, two, three, bang-bang-bang – and felt as strong to his tired arms, almost numb after the first half of the sequence of movements he was performing. And the harder he tried to hold the positions, the harder the hits his instructor gave him became. 

‘Harder!’ Partridge said sharply with each hit. ‘Hold-each-harder. You-do-not-do-it!’ 

He could hardly lift his arms after the end. They were shaking, but he didn’t even feel it. 

The older man considered him for a few moments with his piercing gaze. 

‘With all due respect to the Council, I cannot wrap my mind around why they gave you First class at all.’ 

‘I…’ the exercise was indeed hard, as long as he failed at as little as keeping his breath even – surely if he could feel a thing, he would’ve felt ashamed at the fact, ‘I had extra points for the Intuition section.’ 

‘Which, as we now can see, are not fully deserved, are they?’ Partridge commented, the corners of lips twitching into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

Preston looked down and that was his mistake – an image of a woman immediately appeared before his eyes only to disappear, forever. 

He jerked his head up again to get rid of the illusion. 

‘You won’t succeed unless you learn to do what I said. And now…’ 

‘You won’t succeed unless you learn to do what I said!’ he repeated aloud. ‘And now – you-do-not-do-it!’ with these words he made the last unexpected hit at Gwen’s hand which made her wince and drop the gun at the moment she reached the final position. 

‘Fuck,’ she said with emotion, realizing her hand was now empty, and then looked at Preston apologetically. ‘How do you expect me to do it if you’re constantly hitting me?’ 

‘Simple check of the strength of your positions.’ 

‘It’s good the others didn’t see it: Jack would tease me! Not to mention that I won’t be able to get up tomorrow,’ she said, shaking her hands and arms to relax. 

Gwen’s T-shirt looked like it was time to wring it out, but Preston tried not to think about it. 

‘I thought I got it rolling since last week… John,’ he heard her saying in a small voice, ‘Am I really that bad?’ 

‘You’re not,’ he said, feeling relieved at how perfectly true that was. He became emotionally involved in training them, more that he thought, and cared for his students deeply. ‘There’s always room for improvement but what you have already achieved… That should encourage you, because even at that level… you're the first woman to master it. Ever.'

Gwen smiled weakly. 

'You say I'm good?' 

'No,’ he smiled back. ‘I said you're the first. Literally.' 

On their way back he told her that there were no women allowed to the Monastery so that she can rightfully feel flattered.

 

* * *

 

Gwen’s phone beeped when they were coming back to the cottage after almost the whole night’s romantic walk. Both she and Rhys felt lazy and pleased, and were only thinking about how to reach their bed and have a good long all-day’s sleep. But nevertheless, Gwen reached into her pocket and checked the phone.

‘What is it, the apocalypse?’ Rhys asked lazily.

‘It’s Jack,’ Gwen replied, reading the message.

‘Williams hits bingo! What is it that he wants from you this time?’

Gwen slammed the mobile closed and said, looking straight at her husband:

‘He needs a lorry.’

‘Oh, does he? Harwoodshaulage.co.uk, Our Customers, Place an order. Required fields are Name, Company and Contact phone. Price list can be found in the Service section. Our manager will contact you in two working days.’

‘Rhys. He needs it now, until it’s dawn.’

Rhys just sighed.

‘Gimme the phone,’ he almost snatched the mobile out of Gwen’s hands and pressed ‘call back’. ‘Harkness! Heey,’ there was a tiny bit of laughter in his voice, ‘You bloody bastard, are you ever going to pay me? And the risk compensation!’ Gwen started giggling at her fist. ‘I say, if they ever throw me out because of you, I’m not going to work in your mad place and you’ll have to pay my living till the end of your life. Yes, it was exactly what I meant, your life! Now what is it what you want?’

He listened for a minute, nodded several times and finally named some address, finishing the talk with ‘see you there.’

‘Looks like we’re driving back,’ he lifted his hands in dismay. ‘All your bloody work.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, who just asked Jack Harkness out a moment ago? Almost tearing the phone with both my hands off!’ Gwen made pout face. ‘Is there something I don’t know about you, sweetheart?’

Rhys only muttered something which sounded very similar to ‘you sick lot’.

 

* * *

 

‘We’re on site, tracing the object, expecting an eyewitness. Over. They’ll be here in minutes,’ he said to Gwen, but she wasn’t listening, going straight to a fair man on the corner.

‘Oh, don’t you say you were just passing by!’ she growled at him from a few steps’ distance.

‘’course I wasn’t,’ the man replied, sounding not surprised. ‘It was me who sent the report, don’t you know?’

‘You sent the report,’ Gwen tried to speak in a calm voice, ‘not to the police.’

‘Whoa, why should I? I am the police! And as a PC in the current situation I decided to report straight to higher authorities.’

‘Great. Okay, thank you, Andy we’re getting it sorted out and you may really go now.’

‘What do you mean ‘we’, he’s… he’s with you?’

Preston, standing a few steps away from Gwen, could see Andy looking right at him over her shoulder.

‘Yes, this is John, and listen, we would really like to have it done as quickly as possible.’

But Andy only chuckled in response.

‘Agent Mulder, lad in a suit, now him – new colleague of yours? Gwen, are you sure you're not working for a modeling agency?’

‘Oh, it’s not ‘lad in a suit’, it’s Ianto,’ Gwen replied with slight irritation. ‘Right, if you don’t want to go, then don’t, just stand here and watch the corner, we’ll be right back.’

She then waved at Preston to follow her, but they only managed to go half the way expected when they heard a distant growling and Andy’s ‘Hell!’

‘Guess that was a prearranged signal,’ Preston said and the next second they were rushing back.

 

* * *

 

 

‘I took him out! I took… that thing bloody out!’

‘Yeah, yeah, good work,’ Jack said with Oh Big Deal! written across his face in large letters. Ianto was already starting the engine. ‘Don’t get overexcited about it, because you see lad, it’s our routine.’

‘Yes, but I…’ Andy was now shaking a little, and Preston was reasonably worried that the man was going straight to the breakdown. ‘…you’ve seen it!’

Jack took a few steps closer and looked Andy into the eye.

‘Look, you were good all right, but the sooner you get it out of your head, the better. Gwen!’ Gwen was close enough to hear everything what was said. ‘Please accompany PC Davidson off the location and you’re free to go. Ianto and I are going back to the Hub. John…’

‘I think I’ll go with Gwen,’ Preston said quickly not wishing to leave Gwen dealing with Andy on her own.

‘Okay then, see you both tomorrow,’ Jack said getting into the car.

‘So what about celebrating your five minutes of fame?’ Gwen said to Andy trying her best for an easy and reassuring smile. ‘And you’re going too! God, and to think nobody hasn’t yet taken you to a proper pub.’

She then grabbed them both making them take her by both arms and with an optimistic ‘Come on boys!’ started off in a quick pace.

 

* * *

  

Gwen ran to Jack with a wide smile, and he caught her in his arms, laughing and turning his cheek for a kiss.

'One day I'll kill this bastard', Rhys said good-heartedly.

'Doesn't help'.

'I know. But for a moral satisfaction...'

Jack let Gwen go and approached Ianto and Preston who were standing aside, Ianto with his hands in his pockets and an air of nonchalance which meant he doesn't quite know what kind of behavour was appropriate at the moment. Jack grabbed him into one of his bear hugs, pressing lips to his forehead, and Ianto's arms went around him as if on their own accord.

Then Jack reached one hand to Preston and dragged him into one-handed embrace. His lips ghosted over Preston's brow, too. Ianto looked uncomfortable, this close, but didn't try to move away; instead, he rubbed Preston's shoulder in an appreciative gesture.

'What a touchy-feely team you have', Rhys murmured, emphasis on 'touchy'. 'Are they..?'

'What... oh! No, you daft sod! No way!' Gwen exclaimed hitting him.

 

* * *

  

Gwen was in a wonderful mood, despite the hard day. ‘I’ll drive!’ she said with a laugh, taking the driver’s door handle. 

‘No you won’t!’ Rhys replied trying to push her gently away. 

‘Yes I will, I want to!’ 

‘Gwen. It’s a lorry! You don’t have a license for it!’ 

‘I’m bloody Torchwood, I can drive anything-I-like, got that? We rule the world and do what we want!’ 

Rhys looked aside for a moment, sighing, then back at her. 

‘So don’t you by any chance want to give a lift to this teammate of yours? The lad’s barely standing!’ 

Following Rhys’ gaze, she noticed what he meant too: John Preston, who has just showed up out of the garage exit with a notebook case on his shoulder, looking pale but holding his back upright. 

‘You have a point.’ 

Rhys sighed with relief, watching Gwen heading to the newbie (though to him that newbie looked more like a professional sent to Torchwood from a military organization of some kind for the further training) and got to the driver seat to start the car. 

‘I knew that’ll work,’ he said when the two got inside and the lorry started off. ‘Never underestimate my wife’s empathy, by sending her for you I managed to distract her from my driving seat!’ 

‘That was not fair!’ Gwen exclaimed. 

‘I have a good example of ‘not fair’, sorry love! Where do you live anyway?’ Rhys tied to change the subject. 

‘Ianto’s place and you’re not getting away with this!’ Gwen said before the 'poor lad' could open his mouth.

 ‘Bad. Bad parking. Bad lorry parking, wish I had a tank.’ 

‘And quite a way to go, good he stays with Jack,’ Gwen continued, lowering her voice. ‘I’m… worried about Ianto, he doesn’t look well and you know he will never ever tell. You’re not alright too, are you?’ she asked Preston who didn’t seem to be listening to them and just watched the city passing by.

 ‘I will need some time to get used to the differences,’ he answered not looking at her but still out of the window.

 ‘But it’s not just that, also a hard night I guess.’ 

‘More like a hard life.’

 Dear God, why does she have to interrogate him now?

 ‘Nothing’s harder than here mate,’ Rhys inserted quickly, faking the cheerful voice. ‘Believe me; I’ve been into it for a while.’ He threw a quick look at his passenger while waiting for a light to change. ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

 ‘I don’t.’

 Now he definitely liked the man.

 ‘Good! Come to have some tea with cookies then.’

 ‘Thank you,’ the said deadly military man answered and smiled a bit.

 

* * *

  

Once when they were coming back to the Hub, Preston said surprising everyone including himself:

 ‘We used to have white cars at Tetragrammaton and ours is black.’

 ‘Means mystery here. Black car and tinted windows…‘

 ‘…like a shadow in the world of colour. Unknown and impossible to learn about.’

 Ianto looked at him quickly and then his eyes were back on the road.

 ‘And our vehicles were white. Colours banned, except for very pale shades of brown or blue. And the only one to look bright of all shades of the grayscale…’

 ‘Was white.’

 ‘Meaning the privileged group with the highest authority.’

 ‘That’s why you blended in pretty well, I suppose. But there’s still the real world around.’

 The real world was indeed around: bright, noisy and chaotic.

 

* * *

 

 

‘And how does your world look like?’ Gwen asked in a soft voice.

The question made Preston muse. He was thinking of Libria as of his home he wanted to come back to, but almost never of how it actually looked like. It was just normal, used to, in comparison to this world, where everything was excessive. Now he found himself recalling the familiar sights of the city: built in a strict symmetry, houses massive and epic, of stone, glass and steel, everything shining softly with all shades of the grayscale, with occasional flashes of gold – warm lamps at the reading room, a huge globe in the vice-council’s office, an amber glimpse of a vial in his hand. Everything reliable to be surrounded with, smooth and pleasant to touch, always efficient and comfortable. The city glitters when it rains and blazes at dawn and it is totally breathtaking to be watched from the highest tops, the Equilibrium balconies, with airships gliding over the roofs and city broadcasting screens blinking far below… The last thing he knew to be broadcasted on these screens were his own words – a lifetime ago.

‘It is beautiful,’ he said.

 

* * *

  

Ianto appeared from Jack's office, with eyes screwed into slots, wearing his suit pants with a t-shirt which made Gwen burst into a fit of bibbly laughter. Jack hold himself for entire two seconds.

On Ianto's chest, there was inscription: 'Instant human. Just add coffee'.

'Jack', Ianto said in a voice husky from sleep, 'can you please explain me where are all my clothes?'

'In the safe', Jack answered through giggles.

'Why, dare I ask, you put them there?' Ianto glared.

'To make you wear this t-shirt', Jack said sincerely.

Ianto huffed and went back to retrieve his clothes. (Why the 'general support' person knew the code to the Director's safe was a mystery for Preston.)

'Do you think he'll put us on decaf?' Gwen asked nervously.

'Nah, only me. And I can make it up to him'.

'Actually', Preston inserted, 'from what I've seen, this statement is true for every one of you lot'.

Gwen and Jack exchanged glances.

'Should we make it our uniform?' Gwen asked. Jack looked thoughtful for a moment.

'I still like the idea of bikini cops better'.

Gwen slapped him on the shoulder.

 

* * *

  

Rhys: My wife works with three tall, dark and handsome lads. I should get either a divource or a blonde leggy secretary.

Gwen: Actually, they all sleep together.

Rhys: Oi, I should feel relieved?

Gwen: I should feel insulted!

 

Woman: So, where do you work?

Preston: Torchwood.

Woman: You know how many Cardiff guys think it's the wittiest answer ever? Try again.

 

* * *

  

IM:

Jack: 'So, whaddya think?'

Ianto: 'He's hot.'

Jack: 'Aaand?'

Ianto: 'You are kinda hot, too'.

Jack: 'Sure I am. Iantoooe'

Ianto: 'And you two were hot. Obvs'

Jack: 'Details!'

 

Ianto: 'You know, you never explained all this to me.'

Jack: "Yep. I just let you fuck me into my own table.'

Ianto: 'Twice."

Jack: 'Don't look so smug'.

Ianto: ...

Jack: 'It's insubordination'.

Ianto: 'I did nothing against the charter and regulations.'

Jack: 'You looked smug. Against my direct order'.

Ianto: 'I was trying for respectful. Did I fail?'

 

* * *

  

From: Preston, John

To:  [all]

Subject: RE: music

 

Dear colleagues!

Thank you for your selfless work on constant broadening of my outlook! I listened to the track carefully and must say that the choice of rhythm is most appealing, as well as the professionalism of the performer.

I appreciated the humour, too. And just wanted to know: WHOSE IDEA WAS IT?

 

> From: <Anonymous>

> To: Preston, John

> Subject: music

>> A modern piece to check out!

> Attachments: Repo! – Zydrate Anatomy.mp3

 

* * *

  

In the first days here, he learned one thing: if you want something, you can ask for it, and then you will either receive it or not. Easy.

Later, watching the movies and people around him, he understood that it wasn't that simple, that they had numerous problems with asking, and taboos, and uncomfortable questions, but it was too difficult for him to get all the intricate dos and don'ts. So he asked and hoped that they - Torchwood people - will understand. As for others... for others, he was Torchwood.

He just remembered not to ask for sex in front of others.

It worked well between him and Jack. Simple asking. 'I want to stay today'. Simple replies. 'Stay'. Or, 'Ianto is staying'. Or, 'Ianto and I are going out; stay in the Hub, if you wish, I'll come back late'.

Between Ianto and Jack, it was different. He didn't know if they actually talked, but there were touches, and glances, and remarks about something entirely different which were actually about the thing that they had, and that was also entirely different from what Jack and Preston had. That thing that made them not Jack and Ianto, but Jack-and-Ianto, one unit. They guessed each other's movements in fight and finished each other's sentences in talk. (Though at times, they were awkward in fighting and talking and kicked each other in the nuts, metaphorically or otherwise.)

 

* * *

  

'It seems to me that your world is made entirely for pleasure'.

'Oh, let me assure you - you know nothing about pleasure!'

'I can learn.'

'Too serious. Again. Can you stop that and just live your life for a change?'

 

'My life is left behind. If I'm ever to come back, there will be a lot of things to deal with and a lot of problems to solve. No time for myself. Like always.'

Jack was suddenly serious. And very close. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Doctor bent down and sniffed some piece of machinery which were everywhere in this place.

'We don't sniff sub-etheric resonator', Ianto said indignantly. The Doctor looked up at him, puzzled.

'Let him sniff it, Ianto', Jack yelled from the stairs, 'I like the view'.

 

* * *

 

 

'That was completely illogical,' Preston said and smiled a bit. Just a bit.

It was hardly noticed by Ianto and Gwen – who were laughing and probably weren't going to stop and continue their meal – but Jack saw it. And smiled back.

'Oh come o-on, it was fun!' the Doctor said happily. 'You would've loved it if you’d seen it. Is there anything what makes you feel fun anyway?'

‘I suppose I… never had a chance,’ Preston said carefully, ‘but it seems to me that it is you who is in charge of any fun in this world.’ And he smiled again. Just a bit. And thought that he was actually getting used to do so.

The Doctor looked absolutely happy.

‘Hey Jack, how come you always get some treasure worth his weight in gold and I spend half the eternity alone?’

‘Don’t ever think of it, we need people here,’ Jack replied with his mouth full.

‘You don’t want lo learn what he has become after Jack-‘ Ianto started.

Jack choked. Preston froze. And the Doctor was absolutely startled for a moment and then broke into laughter.

‘Oh Jack, do you ever stop?’

‘Only when I’m asked to. You know… safe words, great thing.’

Ianto sighed significantly. Very significantly. And threw at Preston an understanding and a bit teasing smile, as if inviting him to make fun of Jack. Together.

‘I much prefer blue shirts to blue suits,’ Preston said in a totally level voice, looking the Doctor straight into the eye, ‘Off.’

There was a gulping sound and the whole company saw Gwen who choked with her juice and was now trying not to laugh too hard.

‘You lot are unbelievable,’ she managed.


End file.
